He looked at her from lowered brows.

She gave him an unabashed grin. “OK, I guess we’ll have to find a better way. Tell me more about the creature. If it’s not a true shape shifter, what’s it doing, creating illusions?”

“Not just illusions. The forms I saw were real enough, capable of inflicting damage and being damaged. My memories of that night are vivid still.”

“Describe everything you saw.”

Andreas’s aura darkened, his energy seeming far away, as if he’d actually returned to those days in France. “I was hiding in the woods. I heard the screaming first, and the sound of many running feet. What I thought was a young man came racing down the road, headed into the village. A crowd of men and women carrying torches were chasing him. Many were bleeding from open wounds. When I looked at the young man again, he had become an old man with long white hair, but still as fast on his feet. At that point I realized he was not human. The nearest villagers fell back, frightened by the creature's changed appearance, but the crowd behind pushed on. Drawn by the smell of so much blood, I followed them through the streets until they cornered him in an alley.

“He changed his appearance again to a young girl, and they were so astonished, they almost let him approach them. At the last moment, a man swung a torch toward his face, and the creature leaped back, switching into his true demon form. Seven feet tall, red eyes and skin, and claws. Terrified, the crowd backed away. Some of those in front dropped their torches and ran. That is when he charged them. His speed appeared as a yellow blur to me, but the villagers could not see him at all. He raced through the crowd, an invisible terror, ripping off arms, legs, and heads. It was a gruesome sight.”

Ari swallowed hard. If a vampire said it was gruesome, she didn’t want to think how bad it must have been. Unfortunately her imagination was pretty good, and the story made her shudder.

“The survivors rallied, formed a solid circle of fiery torches, but he escaped into the night, laughing.” Andreas’s voice had been emotionless throughout his account, but the face he turned to Ari said he had seen true evil. “He is earthbound. No wings. He avoided the torches, but not like a vampire would. He was wary, not fearful. I am not convinced your witch fire will kill him.”

Chapter Fourteen

“You’re kidding.” Damn, that was a scary thought. Ari had never heard of a creature her fire couldn’t defeat. “Well, we can’t go running through the streets with torches, and we can’t let him escape. He’d just come back or kill again somewhere else. We need to destroy him.”

“Without a doubt, but I do not want to locate him until we have a plan. I think you should delay further scrying.”

Ari nodded absently. This situation was way beyond her knowledge. Great-Gran or Moriana would have known what to do. Moriana had barely exerted herself in getting rid of the demons in St. Louis, but Ari had also killed one of them with a dagger. This creature in Riverdale had to be a higher-level demon, more dangerous. Still, Moriana must have heard of image changers. She was a lot older, like decades, and more experienced. Surely, she’d have some ideas. Absorbed in thought, Ari was startled by her phone ringing.

“I didn’t have time to wait for your call, my dear,” a familiar voice said when Ari answered. “I must go out. Some dwarves are running amuck.”

Ari experienced a pleasant rush of warmth. “Moriana, this psychic stuff of yours is handy. But really spooky,” she added.

Moriana’s deep chuckle resounded over the phone. “How are you, witchling? Other than worrying over this demon?”

“How did you…never mind. I’m fine, but I need your help. This isn’t an ordinary full blood. We think it’s something called an image changer. Have you—”

“Oh, my! That does put a different light on matters. I knew there was something odd about your situation. Odd, indeed,” Moriana said in her breezy manner. “It makes your problem ever so much more interesting.”

Leave it to Moriana to be intrigued by some uber-dangerous creature. Nothing fazed her, and from Ari’s apprentice years, she knew Moriana was thrilled by a good challenge. Of course, Moriana wasn’t the one in Riverdale with the creature on the loose.

“He’s killing non-offending vampires, and we need to locate him before he kills again. I tried scrying. He was there for a moment, then blipped away,” Ari explained.

“Yes. Recognized your probe.”

Unable to sit any longer, Ari paced the apartment as Moriana continued to talk.

“They are pesky creatures, and it will be more wary now. To locate it by scrying, you’ll need a stronger connection. Something that has belonged to the creature. Its essence never changes and will cling to a possession. Once located, defeating this demon will be another challenge.” Moriana’s voice was speculative, as if she were thinking aloud. “I’ve never fought an image changer, but it can be done. Not with your witch fire. Not even aided by the fire spirits. You’ll need spells and potions and a good plan. If you were experienced in the dark arts, I would favor a vanquishing spell, but that route is not possible without training.

“Hmm.” Moriana reached a decision. “The demon must vanquish itself. Force the hellborn creature or trick it, but keep in mind, in spite of its superior powers, the image changer is basically just another demon. You will need the help of a friend, Ari, but you can do this. You always were a clever witchling. Good luck.” The line went dead.

Ari stared at the phone a long moment, willing herself not to scream in frustration. Typical Moriana. No wasted words, no pat solutions, and never hanging around longer than absolutely necessary.

“You heard?” She glanced at Andreas. “Guess you were right about the witch fire. How the hell do I get him to vanquish himself?” She took a couple more strides across the room. “When we defeated the four demons in St. Louis, Moriana dispersed two of them with some kind of spell. Before she made them go poof, she stopped them with an energy barrier. Wish I knew how to do that.”

“Would she not tell you?”

“She could tell me the words, but I don’t have her skill level. Not yet. And maybe never. Witch powers grow with use, and most of my childhood was spent on Guardian skills—the martial arts, the weaponry. I spent four years with Moriana, but our witch skills are also tied to our heritage. Without the Book of Shadows, my witchcraft will always be less than it could be.”

“I have heard of the books that belong to witch families but have never seen one. Tell me about yours. Why is it missing?”

“I’d be surprised if you had seen one. Witch families don’t share their books any better than vampires share their secrets.”

Andreas gave her the vampire one-shoulder shrug that was the equivalent of an eye roll. “In the old country, witches and vampires did not mingle or share anything except animosity.”

“You mentioned that once before—that our two races were enemies. Something about a big fight for domination, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, but I hardly think we have time for a history lesson, Arianna. Later perhaps, when we are not fighting a demon.” He straightened and came to stand in her path. “Can you quit pacing long enough to answer my question? Tell me about your Book of Shadows.”

Ari moved away from him, stopped next to the kitchen counter, and explained how the history of any witch clan was recorded from generation to generation through spells, potions, and magical experiences. That each clan’s powers were genetically tied to that written record.

“I know all that,” he interrupted. “I want to know what happened to the Calin Family Book of Shadows.”

Ari’s lips pressed into a straight line. She didn’t like talking about this part. “My mother was the last keeper. When my parents’ boat exploded on a Gulf of Mexico fishing trip, the Book disappeared. Maybe it was with them and perished in the fire. No one knows for sure, but it has never returned to me. I would have been the next keeper.”

“Losing both parents must have been hard.” His voice was soft. “I am sorry.”

“It was a long time ago. I was six. But the point is without the Book my magic is limited, my witchcraft abilities incomplete.”

“It is hard to think of your witch fire as limited,” Andreas said dryly.

“You’d change your mind if you ever saw Moriana in action. She can control the wind and the rain. And call upon forces you can only imagine. Her power continues to expand because she’s building on the knowledge of her ancestors.”

“I do not doubt your words. I was merely making an observation. I feel the sleeping power within you. Do not under-estimate yourself, little witch.”

“I don’t think I do, but my skill levels aren’t good enough. I rely on my Guardian training, not my witchcraft, and I don’t think that training will solve this particular problem. We need some really great magic.” Ari was discouraged and, if totally honest with herself, maybe feeling a little inadequate. Or more than a little inadequate. After all, she was a witch, from a long, proud line of witches. Why couldn’t she do the things she needed to do?

“Perhaps you have spent too much time waiting for the Book.”

Ari frowned up at him, knowing he was trying to tell her something. Was he suggesting she could be the source of this magic? How? What could she be doing differently? She sensed, more strongly than words, his belief she would find the magic they needed. How could she have less faith in herself?

Without magic they couldn't possibly defeat the demon, but where did she get it if not from the fire spirits? Without the Book, there was only one place to look for the answers. A place she’d been taught to go since a babe in her mother’s arms.

“Don't freak out,” she said. “I'm going to try something.” She closed her eyes, allowed her mind to drift, and reached deep inside herself, calling out to her inner witch source. As always, it appeared as a small white light in her mind’s eye. She drew near the center, the real world fading away. Ari grew light-headed and swayed on her feet.